The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1887-06-29

our home"
Her enigmatical words puzzled him.
Cora, dearest, ] viii forgive everything.
We will start life anew; blot the past
from our sight; only say you will be
mine"
She strove to answer, but the profound
anguish in her bosom Knocked all efforts
to scorn. The look of melancholy sad
ness that overspread her entire features
told Harlow that his love was hopeless.
When he left that night with the ar
row of deep disappointment sunk deep
into his breast, she exacted VOW from
him never again TO broach the subject of
matrimony; but he left her with the sor-
nv assurance that she loved him better
than any one on earth.
For week Harlow never left his room.
His sprightly, gay spirits vanished. and
long fits of detection supervened.
If Bertha suspected the cause of the
change in his appearance she never be-
trayed it. He pleaded an attack of ma
laria, to which he said he was victim (;
this was all he offered in explanation of
/ his moodiness.
At the end of his hermitage longing
desire to see his love again reasserted it.
self He tore himself from his seclusion
and went to her house.
When he entered, to his bewildered
CONSERVATION he learned she had left the
city.
A note was handed him by the lady of
the house, which she gave him at Cora's
request He tremblingly tore open the
envelope, The note read as follows:
In three years. Cora"
Every one of those words seemed as If
written in fire. He was mystified beyond
reason The thought, " WAS she triAing
with his afiections?" took the place of
all other considerations. But where was
the motive? The more he cogitated over
the short note the more he clothed it
with an occult meaning.
He left the house, repaired to his room.
and in the wreck of his life's happiness
wept poignant tears of woe.
The occident had no more charms for
him he determined to return east in the
course of a fortnight.
He left San Francisco an altered man
and returnedto his home. but the thought
of Cora, ever present in his mind, drew a
view of sadness over his whole life.
Some months afteiward he finished his
law studies and entered upon his chosen
profession.
At the end Of three years his life was
just as void of happiness as the day when
Cora told him it could never be.
He resolved at last to once again visit
the West and learn, if ifpossible, her where
abouts.
When he arrived at San Francisco he
seen her; she had never been heard
from, and as Ear as the good lady could
enlighten him she might be dead. Mrs
Wentworth and her daughter told the
same despairing story-she had almos
dropped from their memory.
The one great object of life now was te
find her and learn from her own lips the
meaning of those odd words: ain thre,
years.
If he failed-alasl be dared not con
template the consequences. Find her h,
would, if il took years of constant search
Such is the love of some men, who il
their constancy sacrifice years of happi
ness for the sake of one mortal. Not 1
stone was left unturned in his untirin,
search for her, but TO no avail. No ON,
could be found TO give him one ray o
hope az regards her whereabouts Blu
he found her at last-found her a new
woman, even lovelier than he had eve
seen her.
What strange impelling influence lee
him to visit San Quentin he will neve
know. Was it mere whim, a fancy, o.
was il the hand of fate striving TO max,
amends for past discourtesies?
San Quentin is small town, situated
ON the bay of San Francisco. 1t took hin
but short time to ascertain that ther'
was nothing there TO interest his atten
ton. But stay-the States prison is 10
Gated in this small village. AnothertraiI
did not arrive for two hours; why no
pass the time there?
: 1t was the extravagant desire of NOR
bid temperament. He had no idea tha
the sights there would interest him any
more than the commonplace realities o
the village itself.
He repaired to the prison. The war
den was very kind and urbane-he coul,
, go through the prison if he so desired
An usher who escorted him through th'
: departments explained every point in tn,
workings of the place, but he listened in
? differently; he felt that not one of tn,
5 hardened criminals he passed by coul,
be more crestfallen than he. In goin,
: out he had to pass by waiting-room
: He casually looked through hole in tn
I panel of the door that opened into tina
f room. In that room a sight met his gaz
p the effect of which almost froze his blood
$ Was it Coras face he saw, or was it tn
O phantom of his love?
: To assure himself he peered again; tn
d truth was very patent. Her arms wer
i ehlwined aronnd a tall, manly form, bu
= he could not see the face, as the back wa
turned toward him. The usher, noticin
n his wild, fixed gaze, drew him to on
Is side and asked him if he was sick.
Y A glass of water was all that he r,
d quested, as he sat or rather fell into
r chair. He told the man that it was a
n attack of vertigo; it would soon |
10 over. He felt as though his reason W.
es fast leaving him; strange phantasies sh
sr through his brain.
Vi That Cora loved another, and that pc
Ii son a convicted felon, was his first d
he duction. The terrible truth sank in
he his soul like poisoned shaft A era
ne ing for revenge on the man he had ju
e seen all but controlled him.
OF That man should never live to enjs
fe the happiness that should not he his